


A Different Sort of Day

by Tangerine



Category: Eroica Yori Ai o Komete | From Eroica with Love
Genre: Bodyswap, Locked In, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21796252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangerine/pseuds/Tangerine
Summary: Klaus wakes up to find things are a little different.
Relationships: Klaus von dem Eberbach/Dorian Red Gloria
Comments: 32
Kudos: 47
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	A Different Sort of Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nomad (nomadicwriter)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomadicwriter/gifts).



Klaus knew something was wrong immediately. It wasn't just the dull ache in his face – expected, in his line of work, though he had no memory of taking any significant blows – but more the fact he felt… _different_. Off somehow, in a way he couldn't quite pinpoint. He took a deep breath then exhaled slowly.

At the count of ten, he opened his eyes. 

To his right sat Bonham, hands folded beneath the brush of his sizeable moustache, and to his left, the annoying penny-pincher, who suddenly burst into tears when Klaus stared at him. This was, Klaus quickly realized, his own personal version of hell, if he believed in such things, which he didn't.

"Stop crying," Klaus said sharply, struggling to sit up. He batted Bonham away when he tried to help, though he chose that side of the bed to exit on. Behind him, James wept louder, and Klaus's headache intensified, split between the pain in his cheek and the throbbing line of agony over his right eyebrow. 

Klaus took one step then inexplicably tripped over nothing, his equilibrium off balance. By now, more of Eroica's sycophants had entered the room, each increasingly louder. There were always too many of them. Not that Klaus had much room to judge. NATO had often complained twenty-six men was an extravagance, but at least his Alphabets knew when to keep their fucking mouths _shut_.

"Out!" Klaus shouted, wincing at his own volume. "All of you, out! Now! Out, out, _out_!"

"But milord..." James started to protest, but Klaus gave him a look, and he and the rest scampered from the room. Klaus followed them to the door then locked it behind them. He took a moment for himself, forehead pressed to the cool wood, staring down at his bare feet. They had dressed him in a nightgown.

He thought he'd seen it all when it came to Eroica, but this indignity… where was Eroica anyway?

Klaus looked around, recognizing it immediately as Eroica's bedroom, mostly from the files he'd built on Eroica over the years, each more meticulously detailed than the last. The anger in him flared again. What had that degenerate thief gotten him into now? Klaus had only the faintest recollection of seeing Eroica at the dinner the night before, where he was absolutely not supposed to be. Vaguely remembered following him, arguing over an ugly but innocuous-looking vase, grabbing for it before Eroica could. There had been yelling, as there usually was, and Eroica had been flirting outrageously, also expected. 

The rest of the night, a complete blank. That part not surprising either, which only annoyed him further.

Suddenly aware of his body's urges, Klaus stomped in the direction of the bathroom and caught his reflection in a gold-framed mirror. Eroica stared back at him, a dark purple bruise marring his otherwise flawless face. Reflexively, Klaus lifted his hand and saw the mirror image do the same. 

"Scheiße!" Klaus shouted before he could stop himself and quickly turned away from the abomination.

He closed his eyes and counted to ten. When he opened them again, Eroica was still staring back at him, looking increasingly distressed. Klaus swore again. Denying it a second time, when the evidence was literally staring him in the face, would be foolish, so Klaus accepted the situation as he saw it. 

He was somehow in Eroica's body. 

He could only hope that Eroica was in his. He didn't even want to consider the alternative. 

With that insanity out of the way, Klaus set himself to his next task: pissing before he wet himself. He marched into Eroica's ridiculously lavish bathroom and tried to relieve himself without touching any part of Eroica's body. He sat down, though he found it vaguely unmanly, and noticed a box of matches alongside a half-empty pack of cigarettes within reach on the counter. He fished one out and lit it. 

He sat there, puffing away, for five minutes, staring at the obscene painting on the opposite wall. 

It was of an unclothed man, smiling faintly, reclined over a pile of white fur, fully exposed for every degenerate to lustfully stare at. Normally this would have annoyed him, but at least it was predictable. 

Klaus ground the butt of his cigarette out on Eroica's granite counter then stood up, letting the nightdress fall down to his ankles. He went back into Eroica's bedroom then started rooting through his wardrobe in search of something to wear. It felt strangely intrusive, but it just couldn't be helped. 

"Why is this fool so averse to sleeves?" Klaus grumbled, combing through his shirts. He eventually found an argyle sweater stuffed in the back, so unlike anything Eroica would typically wear that Klaus briefly wondered where it had come from before just as quickly dismissing the thought. Who cared? 

The selection of trousers was equally dismal. Too tight, too bright, Klaus kept searching until he found a pair of sweatpants that looked suspiciously like the ones he took his morning runs in. Another spark of anger rose in Klaus, but he tempered it down. Thieves stole things. Tanks, paintings, pants.

 _Popes_ , Klaus thought, before he could stop himself, the absurdity of everything finally hitting him. Not just whatever this was, but every moment that had followed their first meeting. Normally, people couldn't stand to be around him. He changed Alphabets like most men changed socks. But not Eroica. And Klaus's life, which had been so controlled before, had never been the same. 

Strangely, Klaus had almost been happy to see him at the dinner party. It had been a dull affair. The longer he had suffered through the uncomfortable small talk, the more he had imagined grabbing a bottle of wine and hiding away in some unused room, free from having to pretend he was pleasant. 

He'd eventually managed the first part of his plan. Eroica, of course, had fucked the other half up.

He shouldn't have expected anything different. More the fool him. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Eroica's nose. He winced. It felt freshly broken, though recently set. 

Eroica would not be happy about that. Klaus hoped his own body had fared somewhat better. 

He could only imagine the obscene things Eroica would do to it. What he was likely already doing to it. 

Klaus closed his eyes and counted to ten again. 

There was no point in worrying about it, he told himself sternly as he pawed through Eroica's underwear drawer without looking too closely at what he was touching. It wasn't as if Eroica hadn't been manhandling him for years, in one form or another, and he had survived all of that, somehow. 

Klaus kept feeling through the fabric until the texture changed from silk to cotton. He plucked out a pair of briefs, basic y-fronts, cloth still a pristine white. Turned away from the mirror, Klaus tore off the sleeping gown and pulled on the underwear instead, avoiding all danger areas. He followed with the sweatpants – which were undeniably his, fucking Eroica – and the uncomfortably scratchy sweater.

Eroica had a bowl of hair accessories, and Klaus looked through it until he found an elastic. 

He pulled back Eroica's hair and tied it into a simple ponytail. 

Satisfied, he stomped to the door and threw it open. 

"Where is he?" he shouted, startling the group.

"We put him in the green room, milord," Jones said. 

Klaus, ignoring the cacophony of protests that followed him down the hall, marched off in the direction Jones had pointed to. He was familiar enough with the layout of Castle Gloria that he was confident he could fake it long enough to find where Eroica and, presumably, his body had ended up. Eroica's band of thieves followed him, struggling to keep up, and Klaus fought the urge to break into a sprint. 

Rounding a corner, he found A and B standing outside a door. They looked up, surprised, then stepped back instinctively when Klaus pushed past them. He'd yell at them later for not better protecting him, but at that moment all he cared about was setting eyes on Eroica and confirming his hypothesis. 

Inside the room – which was, as the name had suggested, nauseatingly green – G and Z were standing at the bedside. Both looked deeply reluctant as they argued with Eroica, who wore the bleary look of a man who had just woken up. His eyes widened when he saw Klaus. Klaus heard himself shout again.

"Out!" he roared, ushering them from the room like cattle. "Everyone, out, now!" 

Eroica continued to stare at him, a hand pressed to his mouth, his face as bruised as Klaus's was.

Klaus gave Eroica exactly forty-five seconds to get his shit together. His NATO-issued dress jacket was hung over an ornamental chair, and Klaus took his pack of cigarettes out of the breast pocket. He lit one and gave it to Eroica, who absently took it and started puffing away. Klaus lit a second then sat down.

He watched as Eroica cycled through the familiar emotions: confusion, denial, anger, acceptance. He didn't know how, but he was sure this was somehow Eroica's fault. It always was. He was the most persistent thorn in Klaus's side, worse than paperwork or his lecherous Chief. Klaus now approached missions with the attitude that somehow Eroica would find him and inevitably screw everything up.

At the forty-sixth second, Klaus leaned forward. He did not shout. "What the fuck did you do now?" 

"Major," Eroica said in a voice that was clearly not his own yet somehow also was, "I can assure you, that whatever this is" – Eroica gestured between them with the cigarette dangling limply between two fingers – "it's nothing I did. If you had simply allowed me to borrow that artefact as I had intended…" 

"Steal," Klaus ground out. 

" _Borrow_ ," Eroica insisted, smiling infuriatingly. It looked worse on Klaus's face somehow. "For the duration of my life and those of any descendants I may adopt on my deathbed. It was wasted there. Such a dreary castle. Far too Gothic for such a lovely piece. I don't suppose any of my men thought to grab it?" 

"I didn't notice."

"No, I suppose you were somewhat distracted. You're forgiven this time, my dear Major," Eroica said magnanimously, standing up and striding over to the wardrobe, pulling out a pink, fur-trimmed robe. Cigarette hanging from his lips, he put it on over the undershirt and shorts he'd been stripped down to. 

Klaus tried to ignore Eroica as he swept across the room, collapsing dramatically into a chair. The way his body was moving, the comfort with which Eroica treated it… it was unnatural. He didn't like it. But instead of saying anything – he felt ridiculous enough as it was – he just continued smoking and glowering.

"Is my nose broken?" Eroica asked, eyes moving over Klaus's newly acquired face.

"Yes," Klaus replied. "But it's been set."

"I can only hope that Mr. James didn't do that himself, or I'll need a nose-job in the future. A very expensive one," Eroica added blandly, crossing one leg over the other, reclined in the chair like that obscene picture in his bathroom. Klaus felt his scowl deepen. "I suppose we fought with each other?"

"I think we might have fallen, but I don't remember anything after we argued over that ugly vase."

"Me neither," Eroica admitted with a slight frown, tapping the ash from his cigarette into an ashtray. They regarded each other for a long moment, blissfully silent. Klaus's head was still pounding. He had no idea how to explain this – to his alphabets, to the Chief, to himself. It shouldn't be possible and yet.

Klaus closed his eyes. 

He just needed a moment to gather his bearings again. Just ten seconds, and then he would be fine. 

But when Klaus opened his eyes again, it was noticeably darker. Eroica was sitting in the other chair, still in Klaus's body, killing the faint flicker of hope that had threatened to bloom in his chest. His brow felt better, which was something, but now the dull pain in his face had become far more pronounced. 

Eroica had his head tipped back against the chair, a bag of peas over his cheek, eyes closed. 

"Was I out long?" Klaus asked, voice embarrassingly rough. He sat up quickly. 

"An hour or two," Eroica replied, handing the bag of peas to Klaus, who took it and pressed it against his aching cheek. "I'm afraid we've created quite a stir, Major. Half of them are convinced we've finally driven each other mad. The rest… positively certain I've succeeded at long last in getting you into bed."

Klaus snorted. Just that faint movement hurt. "I want the names of every man in the latter group." 

Eroica laughed. "Alas, dear Major, I would never betray a confidence. They're wrong either way."

"Unfortunately," Klaus said, absent, shifting the peas so they covered his nose as well. Klaus glanced over at Eroica, whose mouth was twisted up mirthfully as he struggled against pointing out the contradiction. He obviously sensed Klaus _would_ actually fight him if he tried. "Idiot. You know what I meant."

"I suppose I do." This was said with a tinge of familiar sadness, and Klaus tried to ignore it, but Eroica, as usual, didn't allow himself linger very long and quickly turned his attention to a nearby serving tray. He stood up and walked over to it, filling two cups with steaming liquid from a teapot. "Normally, I would offer you water and some paracetamol, but I think we could both use a drink. If I may, Major?" 

"Fine," Klaus said. 

He watched as Eroica opened a bottle of whisky and poured a generous serving into each cup. He plopped a slice of lemon in the drinks then carried them back to the sitting area, handing one to Klaus. It smelled strongly of lemon with undercurrents of clove and something sweeter, possibly honey. 

"A hot toddy," Eroica explained. "An old family recipe." 

Klaus took it with a brief nod.

Curling his hands around the cup, Eroica glanced outside. He'd changed clothes, though he'd kept the ridiculous robe on. The practical undershirt and shorts had been replaced by a flimsy white blouse and obscenely tight snake-skin pants. The whole outfit was beyond garish, very Eroica and not at all Klaus. 

"Please don't scowl so hard, Major," Eroica said absently. "I don't want any wrinkles."

"Why are you dressed like that?"

"Because I like it, and I honestly couldn't spend another moment in that terrible NATO-issued fabric you wear," Eroica replied, turning back to look at him. "Don't worry, Major. None of your men or mine have seen me since I yelled at them to go away. Castle Gloria is a veritable delight of hidden passages."

"This sweater is worse," Klaus grumbled. 

"You must have dug deep in my drawers to unearth that monstrosity," Eroica agreed gamely, smiling as he sat down and crossed his legs again. He took a sip of the hot toddy, settling deeper into his chair with a sigh, then looked at Klaus again. His gaze swept over Klaus. "I see you found your old joggers."

Klaus scowled. "And when exactly did you _borrow_ them?"

"Oh, those particular trousers were definitely stolen," Eroica replied, grinning around the edge of his cup. "I've had them since Zurich." Eroica tsked. "In fact, I'm ashamed of you, Major, for not noticing sooner. I've always taken you for the type of man who counts his socks before zipping up his suitcase."

Klaus's scowl deepened. "Why do you feel such a compulsive need to steal?"

"I am as I am," Eroica replied with a demure shrug, a faint smile dancing upon his – upon Klaus's – lips. "The fact is I'm good at it, Major. Amazingly good. One of the best. So why pretend to be anything else? Anything less? I told myself a long time ago that hiding who I am wasn't worth the effort."

"Is that why you…" – Klaus gestured at what Eroica had done to this body – "did this?"

"I'll tell you a little secret, Major." Eroica leaned forward, and Klaus found himself instinctively matching the movement. He didn't know why he bothered. They were clearly alone, and nobody had so much as knocked on the door since Klaus had awoken from his impromptu nap. "It didn't matter."

"What didn't?"

"Changing the way I dressed and acted," Eroica said, sharp and unflinching. "When I was younger and less confident, I tried to fit in. I dressed like the other boys. I spoke like them. I did everything I could to be just like they were, and do you know what? It didn't matter one whit. They knew exactly what I was, regardless of which skin I was wearing, so instead I choose to be exactly myself. I am as I am."

Klaus didn't say anything. He straightened up in his chair. He took a deep swallow of the hot toddy.

"It makes you uncomfortable," Eroica said, regarding him with a serious expression.

"Of course it fucking makes me uncomfortable," Klaus snapped. "I'm not like you."

"You are the most uncomfortable man I've ever met," Eroica agreed after a moment of contemplation. Klaus scowled again, angry that he'd been so easily read, but then Eroica had always been good at that. Sometimes, Klaus thought Eroica was the only one who knew him. "This won't last forever, Klaus."

Klaus snorted. "Do you have any proof of that?"

"Sadly, no," Eroica admitted, giving him a sympathetic look. "At least you'll still be handsome."

"And younger," Klaus added.

Eroica laughed, a sweet melodic sound that Klaus didn't think his body capable of making. "Not by much," Eroica said, leaning forward and grabbing the pack of cigarettes on the table between them. He pulled one out, putting it between his lips and lighting it. He inclined the box towards Klaus. "Major?"

Klaus shook his head. The thought of another made him feel vaguely ill.

Eroica placed the box down. He chuckled slightly, grey smoke curling from his lips like a fog. "Yes, I imagine you've had quite a few already, and I'm afraid my constitution is a bit more delicate." His warm gaze swept over Klaus again before meeting his eyes. "Should I ring for more peas, darling?"

"Don't bother," Klaus said, dropping the thawed bag next to the pack of cigarettes. "My head might explode if I have to listen to that cacophony of idiots again. This, how it is, is fine," he added stiffly.

"It's been a while since we've enjoyed some peace and quiet together," Eroica agreed. 

"Whose fault is that?"

"Chaos follows us, Major. Destiny brings us together. Love will set us…"

"Will you stop talking?" Klaus demanded, cutting him off. Eroica grinned, but he mercifully kept his mouth shut, though Klaus could still feel his eyes on him, even when Klaus shifted his gaze to the window. It was a full moon, he noticed. It figured. "What if this does last forever?" he asked suddenly. 

"We're resourceful men, Major. We'll find a way around it." Klaus looked back at him, and Eroica smiled. "When all's said and done, you're still you. When you barged into this room and yelled at your Alphabets, I knew exactly who you were, even though my eyes – _your_ eyes – saw someone different."

"Hm," Klaus said. 

"Think of all the fun we could have. Me, working for NATO. You, borrowing ugly vases…"

"We're not switching lives," Klaus snapped, stopping Eroica before he started droning on about some fanciful dream that didn't match reality in the slightest. "I don't need the sort of attention you attract."

"And what sort of attention are we speaking about, Major?"

"I'm sure you have your... whatever you call them... your paramours…" 

Eroica laughed, loud and sharp. "Oh, my dearest Klaus," he said, taking a long drag on his cigarette, which had almost burned down to the filter, before letting it go in one smooth breath of smoke. "I appreciate your high opinion of my personal affairs, I really do, but between my life as Eroica, my duties as the Earl and wooing you, I haven't had anything resembling a paramour in many years."

"Are you expecting me to believe you're been celibate this entire time?"

"Oh, no, not at all," Eroica said easily as if it was the most natural thing in the world to have male lovers, "but they come and go, often in the same night, always by morning. A rare treat, if you will."

"You are unbelievable."

"So they all say," Eroica replied blithely as Klaus glared at him. Eroica snuffed out his cigarette then sat back, legs stretched out in front of him, still crossed. "I wouldn't worry about it, Major. With you glowering at everyone all the time, nobody but me would be foolish enough to approach you."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "I wasn't worried about it," he muttered. 

"No? Not feeling any different? Your heart doesn't start beating like a demolition hammer when our eyes meet? No overwhelming urge to lead me to the bed and have your wicked way with me? Not overcome with the helpless desire to see me fall to my knees and redirect that oral fixation elsewhere?" 

"Of course not," Klaus ground out, trying not to picture what Eroica had just described. Refusing to. 

And, more to the point, he did _not_ have an oral fixation, but he felt that if he tried to defend himself, he would be doing the opposite. It was better just to ignore him, he told himself sternly. It always was. And yet he could not stop talking. That always seemed to be the case with Eroica. 

"I don't feel any different," he insisted mulishly. "Not on the inside." 

"Good, neither do I," Eroica admitted, a demure little smile pulling at his lips. "So I guess that settles that question at long last. My love for you is more than just physical, though I assure you it is definitely that as well," he added warmly, making it clear that he was more than happy to provide more details.

That was enough.

"We need to fucking fix this," Klaus said, taking his own advice and changing the subject. 

Eroica mercifully let him. "On that point I agree," he said. 

"Any ideas?" Klaus pushed. 

Eroica hummed thoughtfully. "I suppose I could give Caesar Gabriel a call. If anyone knows about these sorts of things, it would be him. The question is would he believe it? I made an attempt to explain the entire situation to Z earlier, but I believe he just thought it was the thump on the head speaking."

" _I_ wouldn't believe me," Klaus grumbled. "I thought you did research before a job?"

This time, it was Eroica who glared. "I promise you, I did my due diligence. I always do. There was nothing in the literature to suggest this was even a possibility. If there had been, I never would have touched the bloody thing. I love your body, Major, but I love it much more when you're the one in it."

"So you haven't…" Klaus trailed off, his face feeling hotter than it should, even with the bruising.

"Major, please, who do you take me for?" Eroica replied, an edge of anger to his voice. Klaus didn't blame him. He should have given Eroica more credit. They both had lines they didn't cross, and Eroica had always followed the rules of engagement just as Klaus had. "I even dressed with my eyes closed."

"So did I," Klaus admitted. 

"You've seen me naked before," Eroica pointed out, voice taking on a teasing tone again. 

Klaus rolled his eyes. "And I've spent every moment since trying to forget."

"I'm sure you have," Eroica replied, making a warm humming noise in his throat, leering at him. That was more like it, Klaus thought, scowling at him. Things had become too serious. At least Eroica's outrageous flirtation was a known quantity. Comfortable. "I promise not to manhandle you, Major."

"I won't cut your hair," Klaus replied.

"I might consider putting that drab uniform back on," Eroica said loftily. 

"I'll definitely burn this godawful sweater for you."

"Oh, Major, I knew you loved me," Eroica said, pressing a hand over Klaus's heart. Klaus made a face, but he didn't say anything in response. Eroica carried on as if he hadn't noticed, though Klaus was sure that he had. "For the record that sweater was a gift from James, and if he asks, you absolutely adore it."

"It feels like it was knit from horsehair." 

"It probably was," Eroica agreed, placing his empty cup down on the table between them. Klaus looked down at his own cup, which was empty. He couldn't even remember drinking it all. "I must admit you've surprised me, Major. You're being remarkably level-headed about our current predicament."

Klaus snorted. "Consider my spirit finally broken."

"Oh, well, that's no fun. Perhaps my next suggestion will put my grumpy Major back to rights…" He trailed off, and Klaus glared at him, annoyed by the theatrics. Eroica smiled demurely, already looking ridiculously pleased. "You know as well as I do that these things are typically resolved by a kiss."

Klaus sighed deeply. He wasn't disappointed, just surprised it had taken Eroica this long to suggest it.

He, too, knew his fairy-tales. He told himself he had nothing to lose by trying. 

"Fine," he said abruptly, taking a peculiar sort of pleasure in the look of shock that crossed Eroica's face. "I doubt it'll work," he added, "but the thought of having to spend any more time like this is unpalatable. I've lived through worse. Just make it quick." Klaus braced himself as Eroica stood up.

Leaning over him, Eroica paused. The silk fabric of his robe brushed over Klaus's bare toes. Pink did not suit his body at all. Perhaps, if this didn't work, Eroica would consider something green or blue or grey instead. "This is not quite how I imagined this happening," Dorian admitted after a moment. 

"You need to stop imagining this at all," Klaus replied, but he sounded tired, like just saying it aloud exhausted him. And his next words came out impatiently, harsher than he wanted. "Get on with it. 

Eroica made a face at that, but Klaus refused to apologize for his tone. Eroica had been chasing him for years, relentless, never taking no for an answer – though he had always taken no when it counted, Klaus reminded himself, mostly keeping his adoration to harmless, though occasionally embarrassing, flirtation – and now Klaus had finally given him permission to do something and he was hesitating. 

Klaus would never understand him. This could continue on for another lifetime, and he still wouldn't get it. Why waste the time? There were other men who would easily return his affections, and yet no matter where in the world Klaus went, Eroica inevitably showed up and made his intentions known.

And knowing this, Klaus went out and made almost no moves to hide his actions or cover his tracks.

Like he wanted to be found. 

Klaus _had_ been glad to see Dorian at the party. That was hard to admit, but there it was all the same. 

He should have suggested they share the bottle of wine he'd stolen. That would have solved everything. 

"What's the problem?" he demanded roughly when Eroica still hadn't moved. 

"Other than the fact I like my men tall, dark and German? Nothing aside from this being extremely weird. You'll forgive me if I don't quite know how to approach it." Eroica peered at him speculatively as though staring long enough would set them back to normal. "Perhaps if you closed your eyes?" 

"Will you just fucking do it?" Klaus snapped, and before he knew what was happening, he had reached up and combed his fingers through his own hair – which was, he was willing to admit, extremely weird – and kissed himself, all the while being keenly aware that this was Eroica covered in Klaus's skin. 

The air around them seemed to bend, and Klaus felt something unnameable snap back into place.

But the kiss continued. Because Eroica did not stop it. Because Klaus didn't either. 

It only ended when they both needed to breathe. Klaus felt light-headed, his eyes unable to focus. 

He counted to ten again, though he kept his eyes open. When his vision finally cleared, Eroica was staring back at him, with blue eyes and blond hair tied back, wearing the itchy sweater and those stolen sweatpants that Klaus had dressed him in. Eroica's lips – pink, parted – were still wet from the kiss. 

"That's better," Eroica said, sweeping a finger down Klaus's cheek. Normally, it would have been infuriating, but it had been a different sort of day. "My only regret is I never saw you naked," he added mournfully, pulling back as if he thought Klaus might start yelling. He frowned when Klaus didn't.

Even though Klaus finally had his own body back, he didn't feel like the same man. Not at all. 

"You never know what might happen," Klaus replied, meeting Eroica's eyes, heart pounding in his chest. 

Eroica smiled brilliantly, and Klaus staunchly refused to smile back.


End file.
